


Pssst... hey John, I love you.

by miku_dirk



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bisexual Dave Strider, June Egbert - Freeform, M/M, Other, Trans Dave Strider, genderfluid john egbert, non-binary john egbert, non-sburb AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29064777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miku_dirk/pseuds/miku_dirk
Summary: "John was flying out to come and see you for your birthday this year. He's supposed to get here today and stay a whole week... You want him to believe you're as cool in real life as you are when you text him. But he's got the strings of your heart wrapped around his finger."
Relationships: John Egbert/Dave Strider
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Pssst... hey John, I love you.

**Author's Note:**

> srry for not finishing the other fic :/ i forgot where i wanted it to go like an idiot. hopefully this one is better?

You stared up at the ceiling fan spinning above you. It was mesmerizing. You were laid down on your half-made bed as your mind drifted far, far away. So much has happened to you lately that it's difficult to process.  
You were supposed to play a game with your online buds last year on John's birthday. His computer was busted, though. You were relieved by this. Everything about that game was sketchy anyway. What the hell kind of name is "Sburb"?  
Around that same time, your "brother" just dipped, you guess. You're unsure of what happened, but you don't think you care what happened. If anything, you hope he's dead. And when you say dead, you mean dead; Brutally wasted; Eight different types of, being completely deceased.  
When you woke up and realized he was gone, you knocked on the door of the old lady who had been living below you. Words could not begin to describe how grateful you were that someone wanted to help you.  
The woman had a tidy apartment. No puppets scattered around and stuffed into every nook and cranny, no explosives in the kitchen, and no chance of dying when you're trying to get some fucking food. Which reminds you; Her cooking was outstanding too. Or at least you think so. You're not sure you know what would make someone's cooking better than average. You don't think you've ever had someone cook a meal for you, but she was just willing to do it. You didn't even have to ask her. Was this normal?  
John was flying out to come and see you for your birthday this year. He's supposed to get here today and stay a whole week; you're trying not to think about it too much. You don't want to get overly excited and embarrass yourself. You want him to believe you're as cool in real life as you are when you text him. But he's got the strings of your heart wrapped around his finger.  
You loved him; Everything from his dorky buck teeth to the dark brown freckles on his soft-brown skin. You've only ever seen one picture of him before, but Woah. Despite that, you refuse to let yourself get caught swooning over him. Besides, he's not gay. And you're not confident that Mr.Hides-his-face-with-awesome-shades could be the one to change that.  
You heard a knock at the door and the old woman, or she would like you to call her memaw called, "Dave, I think that's your friend!"  
You rushed over to unlock and open the door to let him inside. He stood in the doorway; he stood only a few inches taller than you, but he seemed to tower above you at the same time. He had on his silly Ghost Busters tee and khaki shorts. What a man.  
A giant goofy grin spread across his face, and his bright blue eyes lit up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and gave you a quick squeeze, nearly lifting you off your feet.  
"Dave!" He exclaimed.  
You jumped a bit. You weren't expecting John to be so ecstatic to get to see you.  
You laugh it off, "Yo, John. How was the plane ride?" you tried to sound like you were a-okay and weren't going to shit yourself, but your body language told a different story. Your shoulders were tense, and you had your arms crossed over your chest. You looked anxious and insecure.  
John chuckled, "It was pretty cool, to be honest! I got pretty bored after about an hour, but yeah!"  
You showed him into your room. Your shit was everywhere. Shitty doodles and comics on the floor, Throwing stars scattered about, and your dirty laundry was on the ground. It was a massive fucking dump in here. John looked at you and his brows furrowed, "Dave?" he sounded worried.  
"Uhhh... sorry for the mess?"  
"It's... It's fine— it's just," he rubbed the back of his neck, "are you ok?"  
"I think I'm fine."  
The corners of his mouth turned downwards; he didn't seem very satisfied with that answer.  
You tried to change the subject, "Uhhh... where do you wanna sleep?"  
You and he ended up laying down two sleeping bags in front of your crappy old television. He's probably going to make you watch about a thousand movies in this seven-day time-span, but you were ok with that. As much as you pick on him for it, his fascination with these silly movies is charming to you. It might just be one of your favorite things about him. The way he got excited when he talked about a new film you've never seen (and probably don't want to) made you so happy. He made you happy.  
It soon grew dark outside. You laid down next to John. He was showing you some old movies he said he wanted to watch for a while now. He was blabbing on about something. You were in an entirely different place, though. Your mind drifted as you practically stared at him. You watched all his gestures and saw the excitement in his bight, blue eyes. You paid attention to the way his lips moved. You've thought about kissing him before, but now you could do it, like for real. You could kiss him on the lips.  
You stopped fantasizing once you realized that there was an aching pain in your chest. It was your binder. You'd been wearing it for far too long, but what the hell were you supposed to do? Take it off in the bathroom and then walk back in like, "oh hey John, don't mind my tits that are suddenly here with no explanation." Shit.  
You turned to John, "uh, hey dude."  
"Yeah, Dave?"  
"There's something I need to tell you about, and it's super fucking personal, and I know you may not get it but bear with me here, ok?"  
"I'm listening."  
You inhaled sharply, "I have tits."  
"Dude, what?"  
"I know it sounds weird but, I'm trans."  
"Wait, so like, you wanna be a girl?"  
"No! Like, I was born a girl," saying those words made your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach, your shoulders tensed, and you clenched your jaw, waiting for his response.  
"Oh. Why are you telling me this now?"  
He looked at you, his head tilted to the side. You don't blame him for being confused. You assumed he wouldn't know much about things like this. It was all brand new for most people.  
"I have this thing, and it makes my chest look flat, but like, if you wear it for too long, it can fuck you up like big time."  
"You're not hurt, right?"  
"Nah, I just need to take it off real quick."  
"Ok," he gave you a quick squeeze before you got up to leave.  
When you got back, the movie had ended, and John was asleep. You weren't sure of how long you were in there, but you didn't expect him to be out just like that. You took off your sunglasses, setting them on the floor next to you. You closed your eyes and soon fell asleep.


End file.
